


Scarification

by an0neemouse



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Captivity, Cutting, Dark, Drugged Sex, M/M, Murder, Past Rape/Non-con, Photographs, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sorry guys, Torture, Violence, oh my god what did i write?, this is so fucking dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an0neemouse/pseuds/an0neemouse
Summary: His existance had become little more than survival and yet somewhere in the back of his heart Henry still found hope.  Hope for Zhou Mi to change.  Hope for escape.  But hope is sometimes the most painful thing a person can have.  And Zhou Mi... he feeds on pain.





	Scarification

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is extremely dark. Read with caution.

“Henli?” 

I heard him call my name but I didn’t move or answer in anyway. I knew better. He sounded calm now, but that never really lasted for long. And if I stayed quiet there was a chance that he would get distracted between the front door and the bedroom where I was currently cocooned beneath the blankets on our bed and leave me alone. I could hear his footsteps throughout the apartment and quailed a little inside. Please get distracted. Please. The door creaked open in tandem with my heart sinking like a rock and then promptly jumping viciously into my throat. 

“Henli?” 

His footsteps sounded closer and closer and with each one my heart sped up just a little bit more until he was nearly touching the bed and my heart was beating a furious tattoo against my rib cage. I thought my heart might actually jump from my throat when he laid a hand, gentle for now, against my forehead and brushed back my bangs. His touch made me tremble, an involuntary whimper escaping my lips as I tried to hunker further down into the blankets only to be stopped when he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Are you sick, Henli-ah?” His voice was sickly sweet, like honey only sweeter. It made my stomach roil. I shook my head. I wasn’t sick per-se, just… weak. “C’mon, up you get, it’s time for dinner.”

“M-maybe we could go out.” I tried timidly, voice quiet and shaky.

“Why would we go out?” Zhou Mi questioned innocently from the dresser where he was pulling out a pair of sweatpants for me. I shrugged, not that he could see me. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

“I just thought it would be nice to get out of the apartment for a bit.” I explained feeling the hope that had risen in me fade away. Clinging to hope with Zhou Mi was like trying to catch lighting in a bottle; nearly impossible and almost always involving burns. Zhou Mi’s eyes narrowed as he turned slowly to face the bed and consequently me where I had pushed myself up against the pillows, blanket falling to my waist to reveal my bruised and cut chest. 

“You’re not leaving, Henli.” Zhou Mi snarled with a sense of finality, moods switching like mercury. 

“I’m sorry, Gege.” I apologized quickly, eyes fleeing to my lap, unable to maintain eye contact with his piercing gaze any longer. 

Zhou Mi huffed a little and tossed the sweatpants to me along with a faded t-shirt. “Get dressed. I have dinner ready for you in the kitchen.”

I moved to do as I was told, gingerly pushing myself towards the edge of the bed, gritting my teeth against the jolts of pain that radiated through most of my body with every move. In a heartbeat Zhou Mi was there, back to cooing and doting. “How would we ever go out? You can hardly move!”

I didn’t dare point out why I could hardly move, instead I just pulled on the sweats, careful to keep the waistband from pressing on any of my bruises on their way up my legs. As soon as my lower half was covered Zhou Mi stood up and made his way to the door, long legs eating the distance rapidly. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” He bade cheerily from the doorway. “Try not to take too long.”

I waited until he was totally gone and then rolled my eyes. Try not to take too long. Easy for him to say. His ass wasn’t on fire and he didn’t have cuts and bruises lining every visible inch of skin. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he would eventually kill me. It was too much to hope that he would stick to raping and beating me. Horrible as that was I knew it was only a matter of time before he really lost it and ended up killing me in a fit of pique. My best chance was to hope he would take me out sometime and then I could make my break for it. I didn’t hold much hope though. 

After pulling on the shirt I pushed myself up, groaning as pain shot up my spine. I prayed he would leave me alone tonight, I didn’t think my body could take anymore. Limping heavily I made my way to the kitchen, doing my best not to look at the picture of his past conquests lining the hallway. Each one had a tiny little plaque beneath it indicating who was in the picture. These were smiling photos. Like some sick version of a yearbook and I knew already what mine would be. He had taken the picture shortly after we had started dating, back when he was pretending to be normal and I was happy. 

But I wasn’t happy anymore. I was miserable. And I was stuck. Any time he was out the door was locked from without. There were bars on the windows, the original story I was told was that it was to keep robbers out; little did I know they’d eventually be there to keep me in. As I limped down the hall I knew, without looking whose photo I had walked by. I had been here for six months and I knew, without a doubt that I would be number ten as well as I knew each and every one of their names. 

He had other pictures too. Ones after beatings. After rapes. But those were kept tucked away in the bedroom. The miserable faces of his past victims forever staring down at me letting me know, from the very beginning just what was waiting for me. Most of it had already happened, immortalized on film and posted in the current spot of honor directly over the headboard of the bed. I was grateful he had them there since it meant that I didn’t have to look at them very much. They, more than me, got him off every night. 

“I bought spaghetti for you.” Zhou Mi cooed happily when I limped into view, feet aching on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor. “Come sit down.”

He held a chair out for me at the tiny little dining table. It was almost worse when he was solicitous like this. I knew that sooner than I’d like he’d switch back to his sadistic self and no matter how prepared I was for it, it always felt like a betrayal. “Th-thank you, Gege.”

“You’re welcome, Henli-ah.” He dropped a kiss on my neck before filling his own seat opposite. I noticed that he wasn’t eating. That wasn’t a good sign. When the abuse first started I noticed that he wouldn’t eat on the nights that he would hit me. That was before he stopped letting me out of the apartment. He wouldn’t eat at dinner and then later, when he had sated his sadistic needs he would apologize and say he had gotten crabby because he was hungry. At first I was careful to make sure he would eat, but very quickly he became defiant and the beatings would start sooner. Knowing then what was coming I felt what little appetite I had dwindle. 

With time I eventually found out that although he loves the sight of blood and pain it gives him such a rush that if he had eaten he would get sick from the excitement and that was why he skipped meals. By the time I found that out though I had been head over heels and securely locked away. There had been one time I had tried to fight, just a month or two after being locked inside. For that one he tied me to the bed and dripped melted wax on me until my back had been completely covered with the stuff. In another world it might have felt good, but when he used a blow dryer to re-heat the wax after it had cooled, I knew that nothing he would do from then on out would be for anyone’s pleasure but his. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” He asked sweetly eyeing me with concern as he sipped his water. 

“N-not really.” I admitted not looking at him. 

“Hmm.” His lips were pursed and I could hear the storm building within him. “Are you so ungrateful that you can’t even eat the food I bought for you?”

“No!” I rushed to assure feeling panic build in my chest. “That’s not it at all! C-couldn’t I eat it later?”

Zhou Mi didn’t say anything, he just pursed his lips some more and glared at me through his silky red fringe. After what felt like an eternity I scooped up my fork and took a bite of the food. It was delicious. No doubt about it. But the concoction of spices made my stomach lurch and my head spin. I just couldn’t shake my nerves about what was going to happen to me. I forced myself to take a few more bites, seeing Zhou Mi lean eagerly across the table towards me. 

And then it hit me. The dizziness I was feeling wasn’t from nervousness, he had drugged me. The realization made my eyes go wide and him smirk evilly at me. I tried to stand up but between my injuries and the drug I crumpled immediately to the cold floor where he knelt over me grinning madly. 

“I know you’ve been trying to get away from me, Henli.” He said as my vision faded in and out but my mind remained sharp and aware. “I’ve seen the scratches around the bolts holding the bars in place.”

He pet my cheek then with the backs of his fingers dropping a kiss to my slack lips before whispering against them. “You’re never going to leave me, Henli. I’ll make sure of it. You belong to me.”

“No-“ The word was weak but my defiance was strong. He didn’t own me. Would never. Could never. He could keep me locked here forever and I would fight him forever. I was not going down without a fight, even if that fight was mostly done from my spirit. 

His smile dropped away like a cloak and I felt sharp pain as he tangled his fingers in my hair, jerking my head backwards so that my throat was bare. His other hand closed tightly around my throat and I spluttered weakly for air. Would my picture be in the hall tomorrow? Would someone else be at my spot at the table? “Isn’t it a little late to start fighting me?”

I couldn’t answer. My tongue was thick in my mouth and my breathing shallow. I wondered if I would lose consciousness or if he was cruel enough to keep me awake for whatever it was he had planned. Pressure under my thighs and shoulders coupled with the sensation of flying let me know that he was carrying me out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom. Briefly it crossed my mind that he had planned this all along so his making me get dressed and go to the kitchen had been just another form of torture but then I was bouncing on my back and he was walking back out the door. Relief flooded me like warmth on a summer’s day only to quickly turn rancid and poisonous when I saw him return, a wicked looking blade in hand. 

I wanted to scream, to yell, anything but lay there but whatever he had given me had worked its magic and held me bound in place without so much as a thread from a rope. Get the fuck away from me! My mind screamed as he mounted up and straddled me round the waist, settling his weight on my belly. “You belong to me Henli.” 

I narrowed my eyes in defiance. 

“YOU BELONG TO ME!” He screamed into my face spittle landing on my cheeks and in my hair. I had known for a long time that he was insane, but it wasn’t until that very moment that I saw it glaring back at me with wild eyes. He grasped my right arm and pulled it down from where it had landed near my head earlier. Stretching it out to the side he resituated himself so that he was leaning over my outstretched limb. 

A burst of pain shot up my arm from the flat inner part to cloud my brain with terror. He was cutting me. Cutting me. He had hit me. Kicked me. Punched me. And raped me. Dripped candle wax on me. And choked me. But never before had he used a knife on me. The pain was incredible and it didn’t stop. He just continued to slice and press. Every so often he would pause and smile down at my arm or lick away the blood, but then he would immediately go back to cutting. Maybe the pain would knock me out even if the drugs hadn’t. 

And just when I thought I might really pass out he stopped, licked the wound one last time and then moved my arm into my vision so I could see what he had done. There, decorating my arm in very clear, red slices, was his name decoratively written in both Hangul and Mandarin. When a drop of my own blood landed hot and sticky wet on my cheek I gave up fighting it and embraced the welcoming darkness. 

~*~

I woke up slowly to the burning slide and pull of Zhou Mi fucking into me languorously. I could tell by the level of pain that he hadn’t bothered to prep me or use lube at all as his dick stabbed into me over and over and over again. I was on my side, stomach wet and red with the blood from my arm and his fingers were tracing mindless patterns in the wetness as he fucked me. 

“Ah!” I groaned as he picked up his pace when he realized I was awake. He thrust in and pulled out, each time he fucked into me he squeezed at my freshly injured arm with his free hand, making me cry out in pain. “S-stop!”

“No.” He breathed taking my earlobe into his mouth and nibbling gently for a moment before biting down harshly. “This is our ending, Henli. It’s the best part of the game.”

I sobbed harshly into my pillow as he continued, taking his sweet time with torturing me as he went. When he grew tired of playing with my arm he wriggled his hand back and down to the swell of my ass, squeezing and kneading the mound of flesh there that once were so much more than they were now, stress and malnourishment deflating them along with me. And then my eyes shot open and a yell escaped me as he shoved two dry fingers in along side his cock stretching me impossibly wide. 

His hips stuttered at the sound before slamming in harshly drawing out more whimpers and cries from my mouth. I tried to keep them in but I couldn’t and he just kept going. Over and over again he drove into me, using his fingers to pull at my ring of muscles. Tears ran down my cheeks in a torrent. I cradled my bloody arm to my chest, horrified at what this man had done to me. 

His hand that wasn’t busy at my ass slid through the slickness of my blood and wrapped tightly around my neck, cutting off my airflow as he road me hard. His cock stabbed, his fingers stretched, and he used the hand on my throat to give himself leverage in fucking me, fairly grinding me down onto his cock with every thrust. I tried to scream but the lack of air was making me dizzy. My vision blurred as he continued on relentlessly. I clawed at his hand and kicked back, head spinning and mind reeling. I was going to die. I was dying. And he was getting off to it. I knew I would be able to hold on much longer. He came with a growl and I lost consciousness for the last time. 

~*~

Zhou Mi was seated at his kitchen table, an attractive man just barely shorter than him opposite, a plate of spaghetti before each of them. Twirling a few of the strands on his fork Zhou Mi took a bite, savoring the taste. “So, Kyuhyun, I hear you speak Mandarin.”


End file.
